What Hurts the Most
by redrider6612
Summary: Songfic "What Hurts the Most" by Rascal Flatts--Booth is struggling with the regret of letting Brennan go. ANGST ALERT! The good news is, like 99% of my fics, it has a happy ending. Rated T for a bit of steam


**A/N: This is a songfic one shot. This shouldn't surprise those of you who have heard the song, but my friend luli told me I should post an angst warning. So here it is: WARNING: There is loads of angst in this story! The good news is, like 99 of my fics, everything will be fine in the end. **

**What Hurts the Most**

By Rascal Flatts

He sat on his couch, a half empty bottle of scotch and a glass on the table in front of him. It had been ninety-three days, seven hours and…he glanced at the clock--thirty-two minutes since she'd left. Most of the time he managed to push the thoughts of her away, but some days, like today, something reminded him of her—a sound or a smell—and the memories got past his defenses and laid him low. Today it was the rain reminding him of the time they were caught in a sudden downpour at the park. They'd run to the ramada and sat side-by-side on one of the picnic tables, laughing even as they shivered. Just another lost opportunity. He should have taken her in his arms and kissed her, like he wanted to. But the moment slipped away while he sat there mired in his own fears.

_**I can take the rain on the roof of this empty house**_

_**That don't bother me**_

_**I can take a few tears now and then and just let 'em out**_

_**I'm not afraid to cry every once in awhile**_

_**Even though going on with you gone**_

_**Still upsets me**_

_**There are days every now and again**_

_**I pretend I'm okay**_

_**But that's not what gets me**_

Picking up the bottle, he poured three fingers and downed it, wincing as the liquid burned a path down his throat, bringing tears to his eyes. He tried to recall all the logical reasons he'd had for not taking that final step, but somehow he couldn't think of any of them. His heart contracted as regret overwhelmed him. It was too late anyway, she was gone. Gone to live with—Derrick? or was it Eric?—in Baltimore. He hoped she was happy. One of them ought to be.

_**What hurts the most**_

_**Was being so close**_

_**And having so much to say**_

_**And watching you walk away**_

_**And never knowin' what could have been**_

_**And not seeing that lovin' you**_

_**Is what I was tryin' to do**_

He poured more scotch. He wanted to get drunk, needed the blessed numbness it would bring, to dull the pain that was threatening to lay him out flat. He sipped at the scotch, but it seemed to have lost its potency since he was just as sober now as when he'd first cracked the bottle.

He wanted to blame her, to make it easier on himself, maybe allow himself some relief from the guilt of letting her go without a fight. But it wasn't her fault. No, it all lay squarely on his own shoulders. Every step of the way he had pushed her away, drew the line and lectured her that you couldn't sleep with certain people because of the strings that were attached, denying the attraction between them that was so strong even perfect strangers could see it. He knew she was aware of it too, even as oblivious as she usually was to things like that. Not that she had ever said anything. She was a smart lady, she got that 'platonic' wall he kept throwing up between them. That was why the look on her face that last time he saw her kept haunting him. A look that had begged him to say something to make her stay. His silence had sealed their fate.

_**It's hard to deal with the pain of losing you everywhere I go**_

_**But I'm doing it**_

_**It's hard to force that smile when I see our old friends and I'm alone**_

_**Still harder getting' up, gettin' dressed**_

_**Livin' with this regret**_

_**But I know if I could do it over **_

_**I would trade, give away**_

_**All the words that I saved in my heart**_

_**That I left unspoken**_

He usually avoided the diner, partly because he didn't want to see the squints and partly because so many of his memories of her had been made there. But last Friday he'd gone there _because_ of the memories. The need to punish himself had been that strong.

They came in as he was finishing his pie. The waitress had just topped off his coffee and he was thinking about leaving since he'd had about all the torture he could stand. Angela sat on one side of him, Hodgins on the other. The conversation was brief and he had given his best performance, smiling and laughing right on cue. He actually thought he had fooled them, but the look Angela gave him as they said goodbye told him she wasn't buying it. He left as quickly as he could before she had a chance to probe like he knew she was dying to do.

_**What hurts the most**_

_**Is being so close**_

_**And having so much to say**_

_**And watching you walk away**_

_**And never knowin' what could have been**_

_**And not seeing that lovin' you**_

_**Is what I was tryin' to do**_

His lips twisted with a self-mocking smile. He should have known he couldn't fool Angela. She had seen the telltale circles under his eyes, noticed that his clothes hung on a frame that was twelve pounds lighter than when Bones had left. Angela had called his cell several times since then, left several voice mails which he ignored because he just couldn't deal with the sympathy, or worse, pity, he knew he would hear if he talked to her.

_**What hurts the most**_

_**Is being so close**_

_**And having so much to say**_

_**And watching you walk away**_

_**And never knowin' what could have been**_

_**And not seeing that lovin' you**_

_**That's what I was tryin' to do**_

Draining the last of the scotch, he sat and stared into the bottom of the glass for a long moment. His ears were ringing, so maybe the alcohol was starting to take affect after all. Setting the glass down, he sat back and dropped his head against the couch cushion, closing his eyes. The ringing sounded again and he rolled his head to his left, frowning at the door as he realized it wasn't coming from inside his head. He decided to ignore the doorbell. Whoever it was would eventually give up and go away and then he wouldn't have to get up and deal with them. His eyes drifted shut and he sighed deeply as he started to fall asleep.

Whoever was at the door was really stubborn. The doorbell rang again, several times in succession and he groaned as he realized he was going to have to go see who it was. If nothing else he wanted to tell them to go to hell and leave him to wallow in peace. Rolling to his feet, he ran a hand through his hair, making it stand up even more than it already was. Scrubbing a hand down his face, he winced at the rasp of beard stubble. He hadn't bothered shaving this morning since he hadn't planned on going anywhere or seeing anyone. 'Oh, well, they can just deal with it,' he thought grumpily. 'That's what they get for coming over without calling first.'

The doorbell rang again just as he turned the doorknob and he jerked the door open. "What the hell is your problem?" he growled, then went stone still as he saw who it was.

Brennan froze with her finger on the button. Her eyes slowly traveled his form from head to toe then came back to meet his dazed look. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out for a long moment. "Hi," she finally said huskily.

"Hi," Booth replied in a rusty voice. A dozen questions zipped through his mind, but he couldn't seem to pin a single one down, so he waited for her to speak.

"Can I come in?" she asked.

He cleared his throat. "Uh, yeah, sure," he said, stepping back to let her in. He closed the door behind her and stood awkwardly while she looked around. He finally remembered his manners, indicating the couch. "Have a seat." As she sat down he picked up the bottle and glass and headed to the kitchen. "Can I get you something?" he asked, hoping for a no. If she didn't have a drink, maybe she wouldn't stay long and the torment would be kept to a minimum.

"Just a glass of water," she called. 'Damn!' he thought, but got it for her anyway. He sat in the chair after handing the glass to her and tried hard not to stare.

'How could I have forgotten how beautiful she is?' he wondered. Her startling crystal blue gaze, the strong line of her jaw, the flawless cream of her complexion, the lips…oh, God, he thought desperately. Then he realized she had said something and he'd missed it. His blank look must have told her because she repeated herself.

"Are you okay?"

"Me?" he croaked. Her eyes softened and she nodded once. "Yeah, I'm great," he lied. "You?"

"Fine. Angela called me, said she saw you at the diner." Her eyes searched his. "She didn't think you were doing too well."

Damn! Booth forced a smile and a chuckle. "That Angela. Thinks she's some kind of psychic."

Brennan picked up her water and took a sip, watching him over the rim of the glass. The look in her eyes made him wary. Setting the glass down, she clasped her hands in her lap. "I left Eric," she confessed softly.

His heart leapt in his chest. "Why? I thought you two were—" he began, trying to keep the hope out of his voice.

She looked away, pursing her lips. "He kept pushing me to marry him. You know how I feel about that, and I thought he understood. But he wants kids and he thought he could change my mind." Her eyes came back to his and a lump blocked his throat at the pain he saw in those crystalline depths. "If you love someone, you should love them as they are. You shouldn't try to change them."

He swallowed hard, unable to look away. "I know." Take a chance? or let it go? Mustering all of his courage, he made his choice. "I wish I could say I'm sorry it didn't work out and mean it," he admitted, hoping she'd get the hint.

Her eyes widened. "What do you mean?" she whispered.

"How can I be sorry when it means I have another chance?" he asked, trying to tell her without having to say the words. Old habits die hard.

"What do you mean?" she repeated.

"Before you left, there was a moment when I could have told you…but I didn't, and I've regretted it ever since," he said.

"Are you ever going to tell me? Or do I have to guess?" she asked impatiently.

"Why did you come here?" he asked evasively.

"Angela told me you…I mean, I thought you would want to know that I am…" she stammered, then stopped and frowned at him. "You didn't answer my question."

She wasn't going to let him get out of saying the words. He took a deep breath. "Would you ever…consider…dating me?" he finally asked.

He expected shock and surprise, though he didn't know why. He knew she was aware of the pull between them. All the same, her reaction surprised him.

A smile spread over her face and she chuckled that husky, sexy chuckle that always made him smile. "Well, it's about time!" she said, shaking her head slightly.

His lips quirked. "What?"

Instead of replying she came to kneel in front of him, her eyes holding his seriously. His eyes dropped to her lips but he held back, conscious of the alcohol on his breath. She took the decision out of his hands.

Putting her hands on the couch cushions on either side of him, she leaned in. He sat forward, drawn by the look in her eyes. Their lips met in a soft, sweet, tender kiss and he thought he could die a happy man right then and there. Her tongue gently probed the seam of his lips and he opened to her as his heart threatened to slam out of his chest. Her hands came to rest on his shoulders, silently giving him permission to touch her. Spreading his knees, he put his hands on her hips and pulled her closer, then lifted his hands to bury them in her silky hair.

She strained closer to him, wrapping her arms around his neck as she opened her mouth wider, exploring every inch of his mouth with her talented tongue. Running his hands down her back, he thrilled to the feel of her, here in his arms at last. It was better than his best dream. Breaking from his mouth, she kissed her way up his jaw to find his ear. He groaned as her teeth nipped at his earlobe and her hands moved down his chest, past his abs to find the center of his need. He sucked in a breath and straightened, catching her busy hands with his.

"Slow down," he muttered, struggling to catch his breath. She made a sound of protest, struggling against his hold. Her eyes fluttered open and Booth nearly lost it at the naked desire in her look. "Temperance, take it easy." She blinked at him and he gave a choked laugh. "What do you say we give it some time? Only an hour ago I thought I was never going to see you again."

She sat back on her heels. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what?"

"For leaving you…I should have told you how I felt, gave you a chance to tell me how you felt—" she began, but he cut her off.

"It was my fault. I should have said something, but I just…I was afraid." He touched her cheek with his knuckles. "At least now we don't work together, so we won't have to worry about any issues that would bring up."

Brennan sighed and shook her head. "I'm still not entirely convinced that that would have been a problem."

He leaned forward to kiss her softly. "Let's not worry about it. As long as you're okay with my job, everything will be fine."

"Why would I have an issue with your job? It part of who you are," she asked, genuinely puzzled.

"I know. Not everyone gets that," he said with a soft smile.

She smiled too. "True. But then not everyone gets how much my job is a big part of who I am. If these last few months have taught me one thing, it's that there's nobody out there that gets me as well as you do."

"I could say the same about you. Maybe that's why we're so good together," he said. His eyes dropped to her lips and this time they met in the middle. The kiss was deep and wet and full of passion, with the promise that they'd each found the one that completed them.

**A/N: See how nice I am? Thanks for reading. Now please click on the 'GO' button and tell me what you think.**


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